


Taking The Crumbs

by syredronning



Series: Taking the Crumbs [1]
Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-18
Updated: 2019-11-18
Packaged: 2021-02-12 21:58:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21483505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/syredronning/pseuds/syredronning
Summary: "Aside from those moments in which patients' lives were at stake, Julian Bashir had a healthy sense of self-preservation.It was this sense that kept him from falling for Garak."
Relationships: Julian Bashir/Elim Garak, Julian Bashir/Worf
Series: Taking the Crumbs [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1548520
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	Taking The Crumbs

**Author's Note:**

> I played around with the Ultimate Trek Slash Pairing Generator at http://www.crummy.com/features/slash/. Many thanks to Roadstergal for her beta! All remaining errors are mine :)
> 
> Originally posted 2007.

Aside from those moments in which patients' lives were at stake, Julian Bashir had a healthy sense of self-preservation.

It was this sense that kept him from falling for Garak. Or maybe not - the falling had happened anyway, but he wouldn't ever tell the Cardassian. Garak had been so obvious in his flirtations. All those dinners, all those talks …nothing but a smoke screen for the things Garak really wanted from him. Julian had been able to read that in the Cardassian's eyes - maybe not from the first moment, but soon enough. Garak wanted him and, in a way, Garak had him. Had his heart in a tight grip, but didn't know and never would.

Of course, there had been nights when Julian had rolled over and over, craving, dreaming, trying to imagine what would happen if (the big if) he simply said yes to Garak's unspoken offer. Many a night had been spent with his fingers on his dick, jerking himself off to just the idea that Garak would want him. But there was more than just simple sexual wanting to it - it was wanting to own. In Garak's world, one could really only be master or servant, and it was crystal-clear who would be the servant in a relationship between them.

Not that Julian would mind. On the contrary - he would give everything that he was, everything he ever wanted to be, out of his hands and into Garak's. He would become the Cardassian's possession without reserve and with a smile on his face. He'd long realized his submissive trait, having seen it often enough at work. One wink by Garak, and he would be on his knees, never to rise up again unless ordered.

But over time, he knew, he would grow to hate it. It was the distance that made their discussions so attractive; the differences in opinion, the gaps in experience and culture…the alienness between them. When they would grow closer to each other, it would diminish and finally vanish. And along with it, Garak's seemingly impenetrable wall of lies would fall, too.

But while Julian disliked the lies, he disliked the truths even more. He didn't want to see behind Garak's mask - but more than that, he didn't want to look behind his own mask. He didn't want to face what could become of him: shameless pet, Cardassian sex slave, well-kept property. It didn't match with his self-image, and it absolutely didn't match with his position on the station.

It was hell before Worf arrived.

Strange, how things sometimes worked out in the universe. The Klingon lacked almost everything Julian found interesting in Garak. The only thing they had in common was a large, scaled dick. And that was enough to procure Worf a handy human bed toy once in a while.

It was a lot of work to ignore the Klingon's grunts, the Klingon's hands, and the Klingon curses that automatically came when Worf was on the brink of orgasm. But there was also a lot of pleasure to be found in being split in two by an organ that so closely resembled the one Bashir really wanted, without the danger of annihilation. This alien wouldn't ever be able to tie him down with words, in an entangled net of strange Cardassian logic and inapproachable arguments. He would never have the finesse to make Julian crumble to the ground with a blink of his eye, an unspoken command on half-smiling lips. There was no danger besides a little blood on the bed sheets after riding the Klingon's thick member.

And that was nothing a medikit couldn't heal.


End file.
